


A Little Snag

by RosaClearwater



Series: Facetious Fusions [6]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Gen, New Earth fluff :D
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaClearwater/pseuds/RosaClearwater
Summary: So, this is where it was destined to be.“I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to -- what is the phrase? ‘Come quietly’?” She paused. “Well, I frankly have no intention of coming quietly at all.”Kathryn Janeway looked across the room as she spoke, fiercely staring down today’s challenger. Her posture was as ramrod straight as it could, her hair was messily pulled back to match her no-nonsense mood, and her eyes glittered with drained obstinacy.Chakotay sat across from her, thoroughly unimpressed.





	A Little Snag

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% a fluffy New Earth!AU. I hope you enjoy :)

So, this is where it was destined to be.

 

“I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to -- what is the phrase? ‘Come quietly’?” She paused. “Well, I frankly have no intention of coming quietly at all.”

 

Kathryn Janeway looked across the room as she spoke, fiercely staring down today’s challenger. Her posture was as ramrod straight as it could, her hair was messily pulled back to match her no-nonsense mood, and her eyes glittered with drained obstinacy.

 

Chakotay sat across from her, thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“Kathryn, you know as well as I that you have to take care of yourself. Even when it comes to something as frustrating as the New Earth equivalent of a common cold.”

 

She glared at him for this remark, absolutely content to ignore his well-meaning advice.

 

Advice that he’d been giving for about a day now.

 

“I assure you, this is more than manageable, Chakotay.”

 

And then she sneezed.

 

One of the cutest sneezes he had ever heard.

 

And then it happened again. _Twice._

 

She merely held his gaze, grabbing a nearby tissue to remove any trace of illness whilst sniffling in the process. She was Kathryn Janeway, and she did not show any signs of illness or weakness, common cold be damned!

 

Unfortunately, when she finally looked back to her dear friend, she found him still shaking silently from mirth.

 

“It really isn't fair, you know.” She complained, irritated by the unusually raspiness that clung to her voice. “Neelix wouldn't have gotten sick. Tuvok wouldn't have gotten sick. And, we both know Tom would have been the only human on the crew not to get sick.”

 

“It’s that last one that really gets you, isn't it?” She harrumphed, crossing her arms and pouting in a very ador-- very childish fashion.

 

It took all of his willpower not kiss her.

 

But, soon, she was laughing alongside with him. The Captain left the room, and his wonderfully sweet -- wonderfully obstinate -- Kathryn poked her head back in.

 

And the moment was broken by another sneeze.

 

“So, you won't go quietly, eh?” She was distracted by another sneeze, not noticing his approach.

 

“Is there a point to you questioning -- Chakotay, put me down this instance!” He’d scooped her up with ease, and began to carry her through the log cabin.

 

Oh, Kathryn did squirm and fuss and fight him.

 

And, normally, they'd be about even in regards to strength -- even with the element of surprise on his side.

 

But an unwell Kathryn meant a tired Kathryn. Meant a Kathryn that he could gently pick up with ease. One whose punches would lack any impact, whose legs could only squirm for half a minute before giving out. And one who’d only fuss until her shoulders were rubbed to the point where she’d sink into his arms with relief.

 

And she did eventually sink into his shoulders, giving up right as he laid her onto the bed.

 

“Now, while we don't quite have chicken noodle soup, I'm sure I can put together an equivalent. How does that sound?”

 

“Well, it’s better for you to attempt it than me.” She drainly mumbled. He chuckled at this, running a soothing hand through her hair.

 

“A simple yes would have sufficed, Kathryn.”

 

She snuggled in closer to his hand, and that's when he noticed how pale she truly was -- paler than even he realized.

 

It was that and the fact that she fell instantly -- instead of squirming about for a little while -- were the only reasons he eventually decided to let go of her wonderful hair and went back to their kitchen to put together some soup.

 

…

 

Kathryn awoke to the delectable scent of what seemed to be soup.

 

“It's not chicken noodle,” A kind voice gently caressed her muffled ears. “But I think even the Great Kathryn Janeway will be able to stomach it.”

 

She knew without even test-tasting that it would be delicious -- all of Chakotay’s creations were.

 

“It's perfect.” She said, opening groggy eyes to see his beaming face. However, it was veiled by the inviting steam swirling around the soup.

 

“May I?”

 

“Of course!”

 

And, upon tasting it, she was quite correct: it was indeed perfection.

 

She smiled at him before beginning to devour the soup once it became cool enough to enjoy.

 

“I guess my appetite came back.”

 

“And some of your color, too.” He noted, staring in appreciation as a bit of her paleness faded away.

 

After a little bit, he just started to appreciate the wonderful woman before him. No details in particular, just the woman herself.

 

“Chakotay, if you don't stop looking at me like that, I will blush.” She said, and he merely kissed her in response.

 

“Well, that would be an excellent way to see if you're really getting better.”

 

She halfheartedly glared at him, but they both knew she wasn't really upset.

 

“I just can't wait till the roles reverse and I get to pay you back for all of your kindness.” He chuckled once more.

 

“We’ll see about that.” Chakotay said, knowing he rarely -- if ever -- became sick.

 

She just sent him a knowing look, before snuggling back into the covers and allowing herself to sink into the sweet bliss of sleep.

 

…

 

So, apparently, this was one of those rare times.

 

Chakotay sniffled for a second time, crossing his arms and leaning against a counter in the kitchen. He stared at his smirking partner with ease, content to remain in this spot for quite some time.

 

“I believe you're working under the belief,” Sniffle. “That I'm gonna come quietly?” Sneeze. “Well,” He said, straightening his back like the proud warrior he was, “You'd be correct.” He then proceeded to slump against the counter, a tired smile resting upon his face.

 

At this, she busted up into giggles before stepping forward and giving him a hug.

 

“Since you're too heavy for me to pick up and since Tuvok is unavailable to beam us to the bedroom, I just suppose we’ll have to retreat back together.” She kissed him lightly, before turning him around and lovingly shoving him in the direction of their bedroom.

 

“Oh, and I will be attempting that soup of yours!”

 

Chakotay paused at this.

 

He really had been enjoying this role reversal.

 

That is, until he realized Kathryn’s cooking ability.

 

Or lack thereof.

 

“On second thought,” He tried to turn around, but it was her turn to be the strong one. “Perhaps, I could put something together before being sent to the Brig?”

 

“Oh no! You're not getting away that easily, Mister!” 

**Author's Note:**

> And, here is our fabulous inspiration for this piece:
> 
> “I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to -- what is the phrase? ‘Come quietly’.” -- Harry Potter


End file.
